


The Length and Breadth of Life

by Mrholyhire



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Destroy Ending, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-17 16:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrholyhire/pseuds/Mrholyhire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story about our favorite commander waking up in a hospital room after the destruction of the reapers, and of the thoughts and actions of his significant other.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Shepard knew he was in recovery, and did not expect to be here.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1: Wake

The entirety of the Commander's first week awake after the destruction of the reapers was, and is still, a total blur to him. The sudden recollection of what had happened hit him before he could see or hear at all, but he relived it vividly before blacking out. After that, he couldn't remember anything up until he heard a distinct, familiar voice; a gravelly and comforting set of tones broke through the din of fuzziness from sedatives. He couldn't open his eyes and didn't know if it was because of swelling or being sealed shut to recover, and movement was next to impossible. There was a brief warmth on his cheek that accompanied the voice.

 

Shepard knew he was in recovery, and did not expect to be here.

 

Shepard expected a clean death, a meaningful and definite end to his trials. He shouldn't be breathing, but even though he had always been told he was a fighter, no one should have the privilege of escaping an end to life _this_ many times, especially when so many had perished. He briefly thought of the kid who tried to sign up with the gangs on Omega before he busted the kid's gun so he wouldn't chase death. He wondered if he had died anyway because of the reapers.

 

When he forced his exhausted and agonized body toward the chamber he was firing at, Shepard thought of Anderson, who had expressed his pride of the soldier Shepard had become, of Thane and Mordin who offered up their lives to do what needed to be done... and of Kaidan. His heart broke when he thought of the man Kaidan was and had transformed into, and was deeply saddened that he would not be able to see who he would become. Shepard wanted to witness all of Kaidan's accomplishments and wanted to watch him rise into greatness in the world... and also the little things. The way he needed to lay to fall asleep. What his favorite flavor of ice cream was. If he liked to shower before bed, or after waking up.

 

Before the last bullet left his pistol, he wondered what Kaidan's favorite color was.

 

When his jaw and mouth would finally cooperate with him, Shepard asked whoever was in the room what had happened. The same gravelly voice which had provided him comfort answered him, only this time without as much of the haze from painkillers clouding his perception.

 

“Kaidan?”

 

“Shepard, I'm here. Don't over-exert yourself.”

 

Kaidan filled in as many blanks as he could during bits and pieces of time spent with Shepard while not being attended to by doctors who needed the hospital room clear. Kaidan told him the doctors said the medic who found him in the pile of rubble and ashes must have worked some extreme act of divinity with his medi-gel rations for Shepard to even make it to the hospital in one piece, that when he arrived, he was almost reduced to meat and tubes again.

 

“When Cerberus found you, they had millions of credits to pour into your regneration, and you pulled through even after being spaced and declared clinically brain dead. Miranda sent the surgeons her documents on the Lazarus Project, and they used the information to work whatever miracles they could. Shepard... if I were as religious as Ash was, I would think that someone was looking out for you. Or maybe that you're just too damn stubborn.”

 

Shepard could hear the smile in Kaidan's voice. He was grateful Shepard was alive, and Shepard was grateful that he could hear the one person's voice he needed so badly after the nightmare that had lingered from the memories of seeing Kaidan almost crushed by a flipped vehicle. He remembered having Kaidan's jaw cradled in his left hand as he told Kaidan he loved him.

 

Shepard felt his cheek being cradled by the same warmth he remembered from before. “I got this for you.” Kaidan shook the surprise softly to give a clue as to what it was. It sounded like bits of plastic in a cardboard box. “You'll find out what it is when the doctors think your eyes have fully healed.”

 

There was a comfortable silence that followed, accompanied by the muted beeps from a heart monitor. Shepard was relishing every moment he had with Kaidan as much as he could. Before he had activated the Crucible, Shepard had tried to squeeze in every moment he could with the man without making it seem... rushed. The pressure of the reaper deadline didn't help. A few meals here, quick armor-on-armor brushes there. Even though he clearly remembered the night before Ilos, he wanted to leave Kaidan way out, just in case. And then, he came up to Shepard's cabin for a 'quick drink' before their final return to Earth, and all of the carefully built barriers came crashing down.

 

“It- it's going to be what it is” Kaidan had said. And he was right. It wasn't perfect, and there hadn't been enough times with just the two of them alone together to make Shepard feel like the perfect time would come soon. The pressure of the final fight against the reapers had compressed his already short duration with Kaidan, so he gave in. And it was wonderful. He knew that if he died in the last push, he'd have no regrets other than having to leave the major, his fellow biotic, and the paramount love of his entire existence behind.

 

The survivor's guilt began to wash away. He suddenly wanted to communicate everything he was presently thinking to the one man who mattered, but all he could muster was a pained smile, and a simple sentence.

 

“Kaidan, I'm so glad you're here.”

 

“I'll be right here as long as the doctors don't kick me out. I've got clearance to stay overnight, too. I probably won't be able to leave you alone for a while. The last time you left me was a little traumatic.” He laughed softly. The smile in is voice cut through Shepard's hazy state of awakening, and it was all he could concentrate on.

 

Shepard felt his brain slowing down, his thoughts repeated Kaidan's voice over and over in his head, but there were no distinct words articulated through the voice. His mind fell into a vaccuum, nowhere for thoughts to stand on. There was no language. He grasped through the smothering black for an idea, a word, anything to pull on to escape. He felt his eyes roll to the right, and he felt reverberations shoot from his head down to his arms, through his torso, and down his legs. Uncontrollable movements racked his body, his eyes so far up and to the side in their sockets that pain came flooding though the sedatives. There were no words, only convulsions, and pushing, the constant pushing of his eyes and then his implant trying to escape, to push through the barriers of his skull. He barely heard someone forcefully tell a major to leave, and a brief shouting match before all his senses filled up with a rapid beeping and a return to black.

 

 

~

This is my first time writing creatively in years and years, but I was inspired after reading some of spicyshimmy's works. I don't know if I'll continue it or not, but I have a good feeling about this one! Thanks, Ao3, for giving me a place to put all this nonsense. :D


	2. 2: Pause

Kaidan paced anxiously in the Critical Patients waiting room. South-eastern wing of the Maastricht Hospital in Northern London. Second floor. There were 12 chairs arranged around the white walls, skipping a few meters around a floor-to-ceiling gap in the wall where a broad window had probably once been, though now blocked off by rebar in an effort to dissuade people going near it, all facing a nearly muted vid that was showing the Alliance News Network. Shepard was moved from CP 218 to ER 22 while experiencing a grand mal seizure. There were possible rejections of, and complications with his temporary rehabilitative grafts and implants, but they don't know for sure yet. Whatever the attending doctor told him before speeding off to surgery.

 

Kaidan kept repeating thoughts, anything he knew about the situation, to try to keep himself from going stir-crazy. He knew Shepard had already recovered from countless gashes, concussions, and more broken bones than he knew about, and had escaped death more than anyone Kaidan had ever heard of, and now he was in ER 22 after suffering a grand mal seizure in room CP 218 in the Maastricht Hospital in Northern London, which was still severely damaged by reaper forces that only ceased their attacks three months ago. Buildings were still charred and shattered, power was still lost to about two-thirds of London, and only a quarter of the EU was accessible through vid-com. Almost none of the United North American States had communications uplinks established yet.

 

He wondered if Vancouver was still intact.

 

“Hello, Major” a velvet-textured voice spoke.

 

Kaidan turned around and felt a measure of relief. “How did the Commander like his present?”

 

“He didn't get to see it, Liara. His eyes, they were... covered up, or bandaged, I don't know. They weren't healed enough to let him see anything. I don't even know how damaged his hearing is either; you should have heard me. I went on and on about- I'm sorry. I'm doing it again.” He rubbed the nape of his neck and looked at his boots. “It's sitting on a table in his room, at least. Next to his IV stand.”

 

“How did he look?” she inquired. Kaidan figured she already knew the answer. Being the Shadow Broker has its perks, but the way her eyebrows angled up told him she wanted to hear it from a first-hand source. From someone who cared more than getting their credits in exchange for whatever information she could get out of them. “I read in his medical file that when he was found, he had over fifteen broken bones.” There was a somber silence as Kaidan laid a hand on Liara's shoulder and brought her over to a chair. They sat, and Liara set her datapad on the table in front of them.

 

“His dog tags were the only things the field medics recognized about him. Imagine, Shepard's face was plastered over all the news vids and the extranet; anyone with a pair of functional eyes and access to electricity knows what he looks like. The only reason I even knew he was here a few weeks ago was because I had just finished recovering and was leaving. Then, some reporter who must have overheard the medic followed him and was shouting 'That's Shepard, it's the Commander' had gained a crowd. They almost didn't get him through the door because of all the people... There's still a crowd outside, but it diminishes a little every week.”

 

Kaidan put his left elbow on his knee, leaned over, and rested his forehead on his palm. There were so many lives lost, too many to even begin to count. “The people out there, they're waiting for Shepard to recover. Maybe they don't have anything left to grasp on to. Maybe everyone who mattered to them was slaughtered, and they're waiting for Shepard to give them direction again. A new purpose or ideal to fight for. I don't know.” Kaidan wondered at that point if he was talking about the people outside the hospital, or himself, just sitting here not knowing if there was a Vancouver to even go back to.

 

“I think I can help with that.” Liara picked up her datapad and began typing ardently. She looked over at Kaidan and said “This should help you as well. Check your messages over the next few days. And Kaidan,” she laid a hand on his shoulder blade, causing him to look up at her, “we'll all be visiting here over the next few weeks. None of us will be alone in this.” She put down her datapad and hugged his right arm, causing him to sit up, and let her head rest on his shoulder. “The war is over, but we still need each other.” She laughed quietly, tenderly.

 

She smiled, and Kaidan took no small comfort in her words. He believed her. She was the most intelligent person he knew, and certainly one if his closest friends. She would know what was best.

 

“Liara?”

 

“Yes?”

 

“How do you deal with your guilt surrounding Thessia?”

 

She contemplated for a moment, then told him “I don't feel guilty anymore. There is a great deal of remorse... but I'm making any efforts I can to help refugees. Any of them. Asari, Turian, Batarian, Krogan; all of them. Shepard helped me to see that I shouldn't feel guilty, that we spent years trying to shout at the galaxy about the reapers, and no one listened, even after Sovereign was _inside_ the Citadel.”

 

“Oh.” Kaidan felt a pang of regret. He should have trusted Shepard back on Horizon, but he couldn't get past working for Cerberus. It's possible that he could have done more good if he had just pushed past all the doubt and trusted Shepard, but...maybe he had made the best decision with the facts which were given to him. Cerberus had always seemed like an organization made up of xenophobic fanatics lusting for control, and while Shepard was being rebuilt, they could have warped his mind; indoctrinated him by human means. And seeing Shepard again, knowing he wasn't dead, that was too good to be true. There _had_ to be a catch. But if Kaidan had gone with him, trusted him... Well, he'll never know now.

 

“Does that help?”

 

“I'm not sure, but thank you Liara.”

 

“You're welcome.”

 

They sat like that for a while. Thinking, listening to the quiet murmurs from the news vid. Kaidan let his head lay to the side, resting it on Liara's.

 

“Hey Liara?”

 

She had her eyes closed. Possibly getting the first break she'd had in a while. “Yes, Kaidan?”

 

“What's your favorite color?”

 

She yawned. “Not blue” she said sleepily on the exhale. “Definitely not blue.”

 

~

 

“Major? Ma'am?” Kaidan didn't know at what point he had fallen asleep, grateful for the first shut-eye which had eluded him for the past couple days. Liara lifted her head off his shoulder and sat upright. Kaidan followed suit. “The Commander is out of surgery. He was in the ER for about nine hours.” Kaidan rubbed the sleep from his eyes and cleared his throat.

 

“Can we see him?” his voice cracked like it usually does right after waking up.

 

“Yes. He's been brought to a new room, one closer to the ER units.”

 

Kaidan remembered the small cardboard box in room 206. “Liara, go ahead without me. I'll catch up.”

 

“Alright.” She stood up, stretching her tired calves by standing on her toes briefly, and coming back down. “Which room is he in now?”

 

“CP 200.”

 

Kaidan walked with them down the hall. The numbers from the waiting room counted down backwards; the ER units were on the opposite side of the hospital, and luckily hadn't been blasted with reaper beams. When they walked past CP 218, Kaidan left them and entered the room. It still had a few of the machines which were connected to Shepard only half a day ago, but the bulk of the monitors, IVs and various other medical apparatus were gone. He caught sight of the small box, picked it up, and headed down the hallway toward a truth he felt afraid to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a wine-fueled chapter, and quite a bit of fun to write! I'll be updating this irregularly. Hopefully I'll hammer out another every week, but we'll see. Thank you for reading :D


	3. 3: Dream

The new room was larger than the last one; it had to be, the doctors needed more space to squeeze all the new machines in. Kaidan had been in enough hospital rooms for one lifetime, himself being the patient more times than he cared to remember, and there were devices even he didn't recognize. In a semi-circle around the bed were crammed a number of machines, and the ones he identified were a heart monitor, a ventilator, and a dialysis unit. Dialysis meant renal failure, and the ventilator, well... it wasn't good. The doctor Liara was talking to when Kaidan walked through the doorway after visiting Shepard's previous room mentioned neurosurgery and SE, which she began reading about on her datapad after the doctor left. He felt a particularly nasty migraine coming on.

 

Kaidan and Liara were seated near an IV stand on the right side of the bed. Kaidan slouched down in his chair, turning the small rectangular box in front of his face. The corners were starting to wear down from repetition. He was trying in vain to occupy himself, keeping the case in front of his eyes to block the tube coming from the ventilator and going into Shepard's mouth. Liara had attempted to ease his tension, and he appreciated that. She told him breathers were usually short-term, that most of the complications with them like oxygen toxicity and ventilator-associated pneumonia had been eliminated. He zoned out while she was explaining the uses of the various other machines he wasn't as familiar with, and thought about how a large amount of the medical knowledge he knew of was from just ending up in a hospital, himself as the patient, or those close to him. Sometimes he thought he might know enough to get through a few years of med school, and push through the rest to become a male Dr. Chakwas. That made him chuckle a bit.

 

“And here I thought SE wasn't a subject for comedy.”

 

“Sorry Liara. Lost in thought, is all.”

 

“We can talk about all this later if you want. The last few days have probably been a little overwhelming.”

 

Kaidan sat up straighter. He put the box he was fiddling with on the empty chair to his left. “No, I'm fine. Tell me about SE.” He briefly felt like one of his students.

 

“Alright.” She stood up and walked to the other side of Shepard's bed, datapad in hand. She placed a hand on his bed, leaning on it, and looked at Shepard's face. Even though she was 'barely more than one hundred' Kaidan could see that the last few years of the war made her looked aged. She was only through with one-tenth of her lifespan and already looked weary. “SE is a condition in which a being's brain is in a state of persistent seizure. To diagnose someone as having SE, they have to have suffered a continuous seizure, or multiple seizures one after another without regaining consciousness for five minutes. The Commander was in this state for just over three before the doctors induced a coma so he could undergo surgery. Are you still with me, Kaidan?”

 

He got out of his chair. He looked at an unfamiliar machine with a coil of red wires jutting out from its side, and his eyes followed them to Shepard's oblique, where they splintered off into four separate cords that connected all up and down his side. Kaidan took Shepard's right hand with his own, remembering when that same hand used to muss his hair sometimes while the two of them tried to write up Spectre reports in Shepard's cabin. Shepard always got bored with reports first and loved to try to get Kaidan distracted. Sometimes, he had to chase Shepard down to get the reports finished and sent to the Council on time. Once, they were working on particularly long reports late into what was supposed to be their sleep cycles, just after Shepard took down a reaper _and_ united the Geth and the Quarians on Rannoch. Shepard decided to steal Kaidan's datapad while he was writing, and he had to hunt down his CO until he found a trail of abandoned clothing in the empty Cargo Bay that lead to a Kodiak... Shepard had some trouble keeping a straight face whenever Cortez used that specific one to transport the group for a mission afterward.

 

Kaidan regained his original train of thought and looked at Liara. “Does he have epilepsy?”

 

She sighed, relieved, and looked back at him. “No, he does not. But he is still in an induced coma, and will be until his immune system is fortified enough to heal on its own without all the mechanical assistance.” She took her hand off the mattress and walked back to Kaidan. “I need to go. There is a lot of work to be done.” Her free hand took one of his and gave it a squeeze. “Will you be alright, Kaidan?”

 

He looked her straight in the eyes and almost wanted to lie, wanted to say that he was absolutely okay, but knew she would see through it. You tend to get to know a person after fighting the same conflict with them for so long. All the extra correspondence in between didn't hurt either. “I'll be fine if he pulls through. If not... I'll just let you know when he wakes up.”

 

She hugged him one-handed, and his arms went around her waist. They stood there cheek-to-cheek for a little bit, neither wanting to say goodbye after saying too many in the previous months over and over; their shore leave on the Citadel felt like one last hurrah and during the rushed return to Earth, no one wanted to be alone. Everyone wanted someone to say their goodbyes to. “The war is over. Now the biggest problems to deal with are rebuilding, and a couple million members of varying species who want to go home. I'd say these are much easier tasks than wiping out reapers.”

 

He released her. “Thank you Liara. So, so much.” They exchanged sad smiles, and she took her leave. Then there was just Kaidan, his comatose love interest, and the beeps and clicks of the devices in the room which where definitely not helping his migraine. He pulled his previously occupied chair up to the bed, decided to set it near Shepard's legs, and sank down into the cushions that felt hard from years of use.

 

There wasn't a window in this room, but Kaidan didn't need one to know it was late. He glanced at a white wall clock opposite the bed; it was almost midnight. The pounding in his head was out of sync with the constant rhythm of the heart monitor and the nearly silent puffs of the ventilator. He absentmindedly brought his right hand to the base of his skull where his L2 was and rubbed small circles. He was cold. Shepard probably was, too. There was a spare blanket at the foot of the bed. Kaidan unraveled it and smoothed it out over the man who, at this point, probably contained more titanium bone-replacements than actual bone, and gingerly moved both his arms out from under it so as to not disturb the various cords connected to them. He pulled the blanket up to cover Shepard's chest, and looked him right in the face. The swelling and appearance of contusions had gone down considerably. He almost looked like Shepard again except for the eye covering. Kaidan was anxious to see those two beautiful ice blue eyes staring back. He shivered.

 

Remembering his own chills, Kaidan looked at the chair, expecting to see his sweater hung over the back, but it wasn't there. 'Must still be in the other room' he thought. He was too focused on getting Shepard's present back that he forgot. The cold always made his headaches worse, especially when there were icy winds blowing past his ears, freezing them to the point of pain, causing the external head pains to amplify the internal ones. 'Good thing we didn't crash on Noveria.' He had to remind himself sometimes that the little things matter. Like not having to go to Noveria _ever_ again.

 

He put a cold hand over Shepard's. He didn't know if people in comas could hear anything, but decided that if plants reacted to voices while they were growing, it could work similarly for a comatose biotic. “Hey, I'll be right back.” It felt strange.

 

Kaidan made his way down the hall to Shepard's previous room. Luckily, it wasn't occupied yet. He found his sweater slung over the back of a chair and pulled it over his head, his hair getting ruffled in the process. He smoothed it out on the way back. As soon as he returned to the new room, he said “Just had to grab my sweater.” He reached behind himself for the light dimmer and turned it down to about 15 percent. “It's the one you said looked like the results of skinning a vorcha.” He grinned. “And then I told you my mother made it. I was embarrassed as hell to admit that, a grown man who still receives homemade sweaters from his mommy, but you kind of stumbled over an apology. It was pretty cute.” Warmth crept up to his cheeks from the memory. Kaidan sat down in the chair and leaned back. He dug both hands in the front pocket and found a bottle. Without removing his hands or the bottle from the warmth, he popped it open and dropped a pill into his left hand. He withdrew it, threw the pill in the air, and caught it in his mouth. Kaidan had been too used to swallowing large pills to even need water, and had been successfully getting through the child-proof caps since before he was hauled off to brain camp. “That's a trick you learn to get the younger kids in brain camp to take their thick as hell pills. The trouble is having to catch them before they hit the ground. They're expensive. Most of us learned it the hard way. If you didn't catch them biotically, Vyrnnus would make you wish you had faster reaction times.”

 

Kaidan sighed and scooted the chair closer to the bed, right next to his CO's legs. He laid his left forearm palm down on an empty section of the mattress, and his other hand gently on the middle of Shepard's shin over the blankets. As he hunched over and laid his right cheek on his forearm and looked at the younger man's hand resting in front of his eyes, he wondered how Shepard had gotten through everything in the past three years and still had all his fingers and toes. His vision became blurry and his thoughts slowed down as fatigue took over.

 

Kaidan dreamed.

 

 _It was late._ Really _late. He was in the Normandy's elevator. There wasn't a delay when he called it, so instead of taking the elevator, Shepard had probably scrambled down one of the dozens of emergency shafts networked throughout the ship. Kaidan's heart was beating fast in his chest and there was a wide grin on his lips. He stopped the elevator at the Crew Deck and then CIC, poked his head in, and continued his descent when he didn't see or hear anything suspicious. He stepped out at Engineering and immediately saw a figure running across the floor below through the long windows. Kaidan pressed the Cargo Bay button. The one-floor distance seemed to drag on and last more than the entire descent._

 

_Kaidan stepped out of the elevator and was greeted by a trail of abandoned boots and socks that led to a Kodiak. He heard rustling coming from inside, and Kaidan's grin became even bigger. As soon as he opened the hatch, heavy cloth landed on his face._

 

_He pulled the pair of pants off his head. “Shepard, I think you generally need these while you're outside your cabin. Don't want to, uh... intimidate the crew too badly.” He eyed his Commander up and down, especially down, languidly. It was hard to resist the urge to pounce on the object of his infatuation when it was only clothed in briefs and a tee shirt._

 

 _Shepard shared Kaidan's evil grin and replied “Don't really need them to write council reports. I do_ , _however, need them to_ see _the council.” Kaidan stifled a laugh. He hit a button behind the pilot's seat with the side of his fist which closed and locked the hatch. It was dark apart from the console lights. He walked forward and slipped his arms around Kaidan's waist, and Kaidan reacted by wrapping his around Shepard's neck. He pressed his lips on Kaidan's neck, marked him with nips, and slowly made his way up to an ear, then down his jawline, all the while pushing Kaidan against the hatch. Shepard's hands began traveling south while his mouth captured Kaidan's lips in a deep, heavy kiss. Kaidan's hands went to either side of Shepard's head, his thumbs stroking pronounced cheekbones, and pushed his pelvis forward._

 

_“God, Kaidan” Shepard groaned. Biotics flared dimly and created more light. He slid his hands down to a clothed ass and pulled it to him to increase the delicious pressure. Kaidan felt the other biotic's hard length grinding against him, and Shepard's fingers trailing over the zipper of his Alliance standard-issue pants and-_

 

Something was shaking his arm, and he was pulled out something he never wanted to leave.

 

“Major? Did you sleep here all night?” a tinny voice asked.

 

“Let's just go get him some coffee to wake him up. I don't have any credits on me, but that woman in the cafeteria seemed to like scars...”

 

Kaidan rubbed the haze out of his eyes and looked over without sitting up.

 

“Garrus, Tali.” He paused to take a long yawn. “Wow. I thought you two would have been heading back home already. There's a lot of work to get done on Palaven and Rannoch.” He kept his head resting on his forearms, not yet ready to face the day.

 

“There is,” replied Garrus. “But a small break here and there after kicking the reapers back to hell probably won't hurt. I'll go grab you a coffee.”

 

“Oh you'd better be kidding. I don't think humans are into mandibles, but someone needs to keep an eye on you, Vakarian.” Kaidan had no idea that Tali was the jealous type. She always seemed too invested in her work and her people. 'Something new every day' Kaidan thought.

 

When the two of them left, he thanked whatever it was out there that Garrus and Tali didn't notice anything. Kaidan looked down at his lap and sighed in exasperation. 'I know, buddy. I liked that dream, too.'  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, these chapters are just falling out of my head! This is the longest one yet. I'm hoping I can make the rest of them this long (or possibly longer). Yet another wine-fueled chapter. Maybe I can learn to write these sober at some point? :D
> 
> Anyway, any feedback would be amazing. I haven't written a story in a long time and any tips or pointers are definitely welcomed. Thanks for reading!


	4. 4: Wait

“HA!” Tali sprang out of her chair and exclaimed excitedly, throwing her cards on the table and her hands in the air. “And you thought I was telling the truth earlier when I said 'What's a Skyllian Five.' You're too easy to fool, Major.”

 

Tali, Kaidan and Garrus had commandeered a table in the main ER waiting room. It was a good day so far: Kaidan had just lost three hands one after another, his current migraine from an L2 flare up was the worst he'd experienced since the crash landing, Shepard was undergoing surgery to remove some of the implants that were assisting his involuntary nervous system, which meant the possibility of bringing him out of his induced coma, and the attending surgeon had even implied that Shepard's eyes were close to revitalization. It was difficult for the Major to keep a dumb smile off his face.

 

Kaidan laughed wholeheartedly and replied “I should have known you had the best poker face on the ship”

 

“I've always thought the mask was a handicap” Garrus interjected with a sarcastic tone.

 

Kaidan tossed his third pathetic hand in a row unceremoniously on the table. “And here I thought Vega would have been reigning champion of the lounge on the Crew Deck.”

 

“Nah, I was king of the Cargo Bay, though.”

 

“Ah, there he is” Tali said assuredly, victory still resonant in her voice. “Thought you'd never pull yourself out of that refugee camp long enough to take a break.”

 

He strode into the room and put a pouch down on their table. “Yeah, well a month of non-stop paperwork and bargaining with off-worlders gets to you after a while. Never thought that joining N7 would mean an impromptu desk job while the real negotiators higher up the chain of command were all busy as hell. The people I'm helping though, they all seem really grateful. I'm out there making a difference. Maybe they just don't know how much I'm improvising.”

 

“Not much of a chance to use you fists, I'm guessing” Kaidan assessed.

 

“Well maybe-” he grinned and pulled a chair from another table, stuck it between Garrus and Tali, across from Kaidan, “You could use some practice too, amigo.”

 

With a hint of amusement in his voice, Kaidan said “Are you still upset about Shepard confirming that biotics trump physical prowess? Didn't I prove I could keep up during that pushup contest?”

 

Vega crossed his arms, cocked his head to the side and said through his smirk, “Wasn't you. I'm pretty sure you were downstairs having a few extra drinks. At least physical conditioning beats biotics in hangover recovery.” He seemed to revel in the awkward grumble Kaidan let out. “Anyway, I'm not here to tell you how badly you hold your booze, Major. And it turns out I'm not just a pencil pusher, I'm a delivery boy too.” He motioned to the pouch. “That's for the four of you, Shepard included. Mine was thrown at me by another delivery boy who ran off right after, so I'm guessing Alliance brass is a little too busy right now to do the whole ceremony thing.” Vega slid the pouch to the table's center. “I'm actually surprised they took the time, seeing how Earth is still una catástrofe.

 

Kaidan furrowed his brow, and stared at the bag. Tali finally sat down, her chair creaking when she settled. Garrus studied the pouch, mandibles twitching once as he focused. There was a short silence, but the tension in the atmosphere was almost palpable. No one seemed to want to give, butt Garrus and Kaidan both had the same question and suspicions on their minds. Tali seemed clueless, but tense nonetheless. Garrus broke the dead air. “Well, this doesn't seem histrionic or anything.”

 

Vega answered with “It's not nothing-they don't give these to everybody, but come on guys. They won't bite.” Garrus was examining it like something he'd have to calibrate. “What's the matter, Vakarian? You chicken?”

 

“I don't even know what that is, though I've heard everything in the galaxy tastes like it.”

 

Garrus pulled the bag to him, and loosened the cord keeping it cinched closed. He reached in and pulled out a plaque. A red and blue striped ribbon was connected to it, and dangling from the ribbon was a gleaming star-shaped medal.

 

“Is this what I think it is?” Garrus croaked out, not even looking at Vega.

 

“You bet your Primarch's sunny disposition it is. Joker almost broke something when I gave him his. He gets real jumpy when he's excited.”

 

“This sounds kind of important, so if anyone wants to fill me in...”

 

“It's a Star of Terra” Kaidan chimed in. He only knew of one person in recent memory who had been given one. “They're awarded by the Alliance for exemplary service. The recipients are regarded as heroes, and until now, I thought they were only give to humans. Shepard... he got one after the Blitz.” He smiled, feeling prideful of the man he loved. “He must be the only person in history to have two of them. Maybe if Jack doesn't want hers, Shepard could take it and start using them as coasters.” He chuckled lightly at the thought and simultaneously wondered if the man who generally kept his cabin tidy, but his personal bathroom a complete mess, also cared about rings on the tables.

 

All of the plaques had name plates, as well as the names of the recipients engraved on the medals themselves. When Tali was given hers, she sighed and sounded relieved. “I think this is the first time another species has spelled my name right. It even says 'vas _Rannoch_!”

 

“Heh, would have been an interesting talk with the higher-ups if they had put _von_ on there” Garrus joked.

 

Kaidan studied the medal. It was big, about the size of his palm, and a little gaudy. The tips of the star were probably sharp enough to cut paper. Taking up the majority of the space on the front was a depiction of the Earth; the north and south American states were on the left half, and the EU and all of Asia were on the right half. In between the two was the Systems Alliance emblem. It seemed like a lot to cram onto a medal, but it looked beautiful anyway. He felt something on the back and turned it over.

 

“Huh. That's new.”

 

“Yeah” Vega agreed. “It's still in Earth's orbit, so I guess they just stuck it on there.” He hefted himself from his chair, and slid it back to its original table. “Well amigos, the paper won't push itself. I gotta get back.”

 

“Thanks for delivering these, James. Do you tip delivery boys here, or is that just a Turian thing?”

 

“Wasn't a problem, Garrus. You all know where I'll be if you want to drop in. And Major, I meant what I said. You can't let those fightin' muscles go to waste from sitting here all day. Plus I could use a good dance now and then. You too Garrus. Always wanted to fist fight a Turian.”

 

He laughed and flared his mandibles. “And get snapped in half? No thanks. We aren't really built for punching and all that physical intensity. I'll stick to my rifles.”

 

~

 

After four more losing hands of Skyllian Five, Kaidan had given up. Poker was never his thing, really, but at least he was better at it than Joker, who couldn't even keep a straight face. Coaching him was pretty much a lost cause.

 

A doctor striding into the waiting room and addressing the three of them ended his losing streak. She walked them through the expected effects of the surgery as she escorted them down the hall into Shepard's room. The specifics and details were lost on Kaidan, but he gleaned that Shepard's immune system was stabilized and could work without aid, the ventilator was rendered useless, and his eyes were fully healed.

 

Kaidan heard a shout behind him echoing from down the hall. “Major! Wait!” He spun around and saw a man racing towards him. He was out of breath when he reached the biotic.

 

Kaidan looked back at the three You guys go on ahead. I'll be right there.”

 

He saluted. “Is that a Star of Terra? _Wow._ I never thought I'd see one, sir. Congratulations.”

 

“Is there something you need, soldier?”

 

“Yes, sir. Um, sir, these belong to you.” He outstretched a fist, and Kaidan's bent, charred, and thoroughly wrecked dog tags dangled between rough fingers from a shiny new chain. He put his palm out and the soldier dropped them into his hand. “A woman gave me these about a week ago, thinking I was you, sir. She said she found them near the reaper transport beam.”

 

A flipped Mako flying through the air flickered through his memory, finding new life from this object that reminded Kaidan of failure and devastation. Buried doubts came gushing back to surface once more-should have reacted faster, should have acted on his feelings sooner, would have had more time- Kaidan shook out of it. There is a time and place to mull over these uncertainties, and this was definitely not it. He suddenly realized he had zoned out while the soldier had been chattering anxiously away.

 

“-And ever since they came into my possession, I've had nothing but trouble. Women have been-” he gulped nervously and wrung his hands, “it has not been a picnic, sir I'm not even _interested_ in them, but they keep throwing themselves at me. I- I think these people got us confused because they think we look alike, sir. I personally don't see the resemblance. You're a damn war hero, but I don't want your life. Um, sir.”

 

Kaidan put the dog tags in a pocket and asked “What's your name?”

 

“Costa, sir. Private Luciano Costa.”

 

“Thank you, Costa. I'm happy to have these back. I'm sorry they gave you trouble, and for what it's worth, I don't see the similarity either.” He lied about the last part, but the younger man seemed genuinely less burdened, and after the war, everyone could use less burdens.

 

“I'm glad we agree on that, sir. Again, congratulations on your commendation.” He saluted again and sauntered away, seemingly more relaxed without the tags. They felt heavy in Kaidan's hand.

 

When he caught up with Tali and Garrus in Shepard's room, he took his seat on the right side of the bed. It somehow felt softer than before. There were notably less devices around Shepard's bed, and no tube invading his throat. Most of his skin was blotted with healing bruises and contusions that were jaundice in color, and now he had six surgical incisions bound up with sutures added to the landscape of his visible skin. His muscles, which had seen constant military use for over fourteen years, were diminishing. It seemed strange that Shepard's muscles hadn't begun to atrophy until now. Maybe he'd had the muscles so long that atrophy would have been delayed, or maybe it was an effect from all the implants. Either way, it would be a while before he could use gym equipment again, let alone get out of bed to walk across the room, or even begin physical therapy.

 

“He's going to be out for another two weeks, Kaidan” Garrus informed him. “That's a lot of poker games.”

 

All three of their omni tools beeped one after the other. After exchanging puzzled looks, Kaidan flipped to his messages, while the other two did the same.

 

_Kaidan-_

 

_I found something for you to do while Shepard's out. You mentioned your anxiety about communications with your parents, and this should help. He will be fine with the doctors watching him; don't worry. There's not much you can do except sit in his room with him for the next two weeks, and we both know that isn't healthy. Get some fresh air for me._

 

_-Liara_

 

The report after Liara's message was calling for anyone who knew their way around a power coupling to help rebuild and repair comm towers.

 

“Tech duty” Tali sighed. She sounded relieved. “A group needs help at a docking base to repair ships for taking those stranded on Earth home.”

 

“Same here” Garrus added.

 

“Comm towers for me” Kaidan joined in. He felt ambivalent about leaving Shepard alone, but Liara was right. He was out of the woods and just needed rest and recovery.

 

Kaidan's muscles felt stiff from disuse. Simple technical repair could be cathartic, and when he was here, just looking at Shepard's face, he felt helpless sometimes.

_Tomorrow. Just a little more time._


	5. 5: Distraction

Sweat streamed down Kaidan's neck and back in rivulets. He furrowed his brow in frustration at something that should not be _this_ difficult to fix. Before he could even begin repairs on the comm tower, he had to find a way around working in the August heat, and the humidity didn't help either; much of the electronics which where exposed to outside air needed to be blast-dried and immediately sealed. He wished he hadn't left his armor on the Normandy. His sweet, sweet climate-controlled armor. The SR-2 was currently transporting off-worlders back to their native planets and wouldn't be back for a few weeks, so waltzing over to the docks and slipping in and out without being swamped by reporters wasn't even an option. He sighed with exasperation.

 

Engineer Adams was helping to coordinate repair teams all over London and, after a brief reunion, assigned Kaidan to work on the main communications tower that linked London to the rest of the world. It was a tall, dangerously slender piece of architecture that swayed in the wind towards the top. There was a pathway that circled upwards along the inner walls, leading to an occasional office or communications suite, and an elevator straight up the middle. The word huge didn't even come close to describing the size of the structure.

 

By the time Kaidan arrived, the elevator had already been fixed, so he volunteered to get climate control for the building up and running. A single unit regulated the entire tower, so he figured that it couldn't be any more complicated or difficult than helping Tali with the Normandy's massive drive core.

 

Three hours later, after fabricating a new cooling drive for the translocation engine out of spare parts found around the building and borrowed from other technicians, he was down to a single problem. Just one more hurdle to pass over, and then he wouldn't be bathing in his own sweat. He sat down, left leg stretched out on the floor, elbow resting on his upright knee, and leaned his back on the control box he had just finished repairing. _Where the hell am I supposed to find something to jump start the translocator?_

 

“Woah. Small world, Major.”

 

Kaidan looked up. “You're telling me, Daniels. Good to see you.” She smiled and helped him up. “Haven't seen you since we got back.”

 

“Alliance has been keeping us pretty busy. And please, call me Gabby. After you accidentally walked in on Ken and I-” Kaidan put his palm over his face and flushed from embarrassment. “Well, we're done with formalities, sir.”

 

“Kaidan, Daniels.”

 

“Gabby, Kaidan.” They laughed loudly, Kaidan's embarrassment melting away.

 

“Well, it's all work and no communications right now. I gotta get back.”

 

“Hold on” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Think you could help me out with this? Everyone in the tower would be grateful to have this back online.”

 

“No problem.” She crouched down and sat on her heels. “Hmm... is the linear interface capacitor functioning?”

 

“Yep, first thing I checked too. That was an easy fix, then the plasma domain, and all the way down to the translocation engine.”

 

She studied his work, occasionally prodding something or shining light into the deeper parts with her omni tool. She rocked back and forth, hand on her chin. “Well, everything looks good, except the transistor needs a kick start. If we could do that, then we could bypass the next few repairs until we get the necessary parts. Normally, an eezo-powered phase streamer does the job, but we're fresh out of thirty-thousand credit tools. Makes you miss the Normandy, huh?”

 

“Yeah. Everything was so much easier.”

 

“Except for the reapers. You know.” Her eyes went wide. “Oh! I'm so dumb for not thinking of this before!” Kaidan looked at her questioningly. “Have a headache, Kaidan?”

 

“Only a mild one. Why?”

 

“Think you could jump start this part with a small biotic flare?”

 

“Uh... yeah, I could try, but wouldn't that blow out the atmospheric modulator?”

 

“Not if you stick a barrier around it.”

 

Kaidan felt a little dumb. He had been too focused on his tools and the equipment in front of him that he completely overlooked that _._ He knelt down, stuck a small barrier between the appropriate parts, and sent a shock of blue to the transistor. Immediately, the climate control whirred to life, and the collective cheers of all the workers in the tower echoed to the bottom. Some of them who were on the bottom floor clambered under the nearest vent.

 

“What a tool” she commented sarcastically. They laughed again, this time accompanied by all the relief from other workers in the tower. “Anyway, now we've saved the galaxy _and_ the sanity of anyone working in here. You know that before eezo, climate control units were way less complicated? It seems like we use it for everything now.”

 

“You're telling me” said the biotic. He sat down again and began to feel cool air waft by. His stomach rumbled. “Thanks, Gabby.”

 

“Anytime, Kaidan. I'm up in suite 15 if you need anything else.” She strolled towards the walkway and began the long walk up the tower.

 

For a long time, Kaidan was content to sit. He leaned his head back on the device behind him. He hadn't taken a break in half a day, and he felt some mild carpal tunnel from the tools he had been grasping and using for hours on end; complete concentration focused on the tasks he set out to finish. Before the climate control unit was the verteron wavefront conduit, and after would be getting the messaging databanks back online, then he had to head up the length of the tower and help the teams who were assigned to fixing the structure stabilizers to prevent the tower swaying too far during harsh weather. All the labor, the single-mindedness, felt... comforting. Fatigue washed over him as he stretched his legs prostrate on the floor, taught and strained, eyes closed when his arms joined the stretch and extended in front of him with his fingers meshed together, palms outward. His concentration wavered, and his single-mindedness faltered.

 

Depression began to claw its way back into his chest. He had masked it around Liara, Garrus, Tali, everyone he knew. It had struck him hard when they crash landed on some unnamed planet, and intensified when everyone on board gathered around the memorial wall on the crew deck, when Joker placed EDI's name across from Ash's, and when Liara gave him Shepard's name plate, the piercingly cold metal contrasting the boiling anger and frustration he felt deep in his gut, he wanted to snap it in half. Instead, he had hesitated. He couldn't accept the end of someone who had already avoided and defeated death so many times before. A faint glimmer of hope sparked in him as he brushed his fingers over the grooves of letters. He had grasped it in his hands, and just walked off through the group to the observation deck. All he could think about, when he wasn't firmly concentrated on repairs to the Normandy, was the name plate he sat next to, both basked in stars, the sanity check at Apollo's, the sanity check directly afterward in Shepard's cabin... the repairs kept the animosity between the coldness he felt from despair and the burning heat from anger at bay.

 

By the time they had limped back to Earth with the QEC newly intact, his depression had festered into an ugly solitude. If he wasn't in starboard observation, Kaidan would be in the med bay being begrudgingly worked on by Dr. Chakwas, or in the captain's cabin. Sometimes, he'd lay Shepard's N7 jacket on one side of the bed, and lie down on his side next to it, just staring through grief and tears, knowing a warm, solid body should be filling it.

 

Kaidan knew he had to begin healing eventually, that he couldn't just sulk for the rest of his life, but he felt that being happy at all, at a time like this, was insulting to Shepard's memory. So was being unhappy at what his sacrifice gave the galaxy. It was much, much easier to wallow in the hole Shepard left, so that's what he did. For _weeks._ It only got worse when he saw himself in a frame on Shepard's desk.

 

Until he overheard a loudmouth reporter shouting about Commander Shepard being alive, anyway.

 

Since then, there had been a great deal of healing, but a feeling he had centered himself around for so long, that was all too familiar, always crept back when he was alone. Shepard was on the mend, but nothing was certain, so it was easy to feel depression slide into his heart again.

 

He shook his head and smiled, darkness leaving him. Time was a luxury they could afford now. Whatever healing Shepard still had to do, any doubts Kaidan still had, they'd all be worked out in time. During the war, desperation had colored every kiss, every touch, every meaningful glance across the War Room or the mess, all heavy with poignancy and significance; the two of them were constantly tying to make up for lost time. Now, though... there was a future. It seemed strange, new, and a little exhilarating. There wasn't an end in sight; _real_ dates, living in the same space, fights about doing the dishes, hell, maybe even a kid down the road. Thinking about the possibilities for the future eschewed any feelings of depression.

 

The days were long and at certain times, frustrating, but by the time Kaidan hobbled back to Shepard's room at the end of the day, the weariness felt liberating. He felt like he was really doing some good and not just moping around, waiting for a ghost to come back to life. Before he started repairs on the comm tower, all he could think about when he looked at his lover's face were regrets, time that had passed over, past decisions that had led up to this point, but now, he felt pride and a large sense of accomplishment. At thirty-five, Kaidan felt he had experienced more in the previous thee years than most humans did in their entire 150. Hackett had even sent him a message asking if Kaidan would like to retire early. Of course, he said no. Military life wasn't something he thought he could ever leave, plus, he was a Spectre. The council had died on the Citadel, but the new council would still need as many Spectres as they could get their hands on. He laughed softly. Shepard would make a hell of a diplomat. He'd hate the endless politics, but uniting every species in the galaxy was certainly an impressive note on a military record and would get him any diplomatic position he wanted; if he wanted it, anyway.

 

He pulled out the cot the hospital had give him a week ago and set it up directly next to Shepard's bed. It was much lower to the ground than the bed was, and it was so hot outside that Kaidan didn't even need a blanket to sleep. Just a pillow, the soft light coming in from under the door, and the metronome-like beeps of the heart monitor.

 

“Tomorrow's gonna be great, Shepard.” He had gotten used to talking to someone who might not hear him. It didn't feel awkward anymore. “Vega's gonna stop by on his way to another refugee base. I think he works harder than _I_ do right now.” The bulldozer of a soldier had been going almost non-stop since the Normandy had gotten back. He really liked to immerse himself in work and the needs of other people, probably keeping his mind off other things, like Kaidan did when he was repairing the tower. He never thought of Vega as a selfless person until he had stepped off the Normandy and seen him work with civilians so diligently.

 

“The repairs are almost done on the bottom levels. The tech gets a little more complicated at the top, and the last time I went up there, I walked in on Donnelly and Daniels... engineering things. So, not looking forward to that.” He stared up at the ceiling, one hand behind his head, and a smile plastered on his face. “Donnelly says he's going to pop the question tomorrow, but he says that every day. He even showed me the ring. Said it was his mom's. Stuff like that probably won't even be made until the global economy is back. Makes you wonder what thousands of other little things will have changed because of the war.” Production would be based on need instead of entertainment for the next few years at the very least, the main exception being alcohol, probably. Bars and clubs like Purgatory and Afterlife would be wildly busy.

 

So would hospitals. Kaidan looked up at bed and saw Shepard's hand palm down hanging off the side, someone must have moved it to take blood. He reached up and lightly stroked paths just past his knuckles and down his fingers. His thumb circled around the pads of Shepard's fingers. The calluses were almost gone, but they would come back once Shepard started physical therapy. He worked like a relentless beast his entire career to get where he was, and Kaidan didn't think that was going to stop now. He'd attack it like a Krogan, and probably be just as difficult to impose limits on.

 

He'd find out in time. Kaidan could wait. He'd learned that time was something he could idle away now, and he was going to enjoy it. Everything was coming up roses. Fingers curled around his probing thumb. Kaidan's eyes flew open in shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man. This chapter was harder to write than all the others. Couldn't have come up with all the nonsense technical stuff without the various Star Trek technobabble generators floating around on the internet!
> 
> Might be a week or two before the next chapter comes out. Life gets in the way, you know how it is.
> 
> Thank you for reading. Hope you enjoyed it :D


	6. 6: Steps

Shepard dreamed.

 

_Anderson was already wounded when Shepard found him, but still standing. He called out to him and heard whispers scraping under his skull. Anderson turned around. His movements looked restrained and he barely choked out a short “I can't” before a figure approached from behind Shepard. The Illusive Man had lost his mind. He was spewing gibberish. The whole conversation was accompanied by whispers and voices that were hushed and piercing at the same time. The tone of it was bleak. The Illusive Man refused to see reason. Oily tendrils invaded Shepard's mind. His arm was lifted against his will, gun pointed at Anderson. His finger tightened, and Anderson was shot in the left side of his abdomen, but he couldn't fall. He couldn't even hunch over. All he could do was tell the Illusive Man that his ideology was bullshit. There wasn't any blood when the indoctrinated husk of the Illusive Man shot itself, Shepard noted._

 

_There was a white blur of noise and motion. Anderson was dead beside him. He examined his bloody hand which was cradling his side, and somehow, he was bleeding in the same spot in which he had shot the Admiral. Hackett said something as Shepard crawled towards the console he had sacrificed too much to get to. He felt himself being lifted, like his arm was._

 

_Then he was face to face with the catalyst. It took the form of a person Shepard was haunted by, and used a voice he only half recognized. It tried to incline Shepard towards alternatives he did not want._

 

_Choosing to do nothing, to let the next cycle make their attempt, was completely out of the question. Shepard had come farther than any organic in any of the countless cycles that preceded his and was not just going to give up._

 

_Saren was promised, perhaps falsely to gain his trust, an ascension of all organic life by the reapers, so synthesis did not initially hold an appeal, despite the Geth earning a peaceful place beside the Quarians. It started to look like a good choice once Shepard thought about the fact that every single living being could benefit from converging, but he especially thought of Joker being able to dance and look stupid like everyone else, of EDI experiencing emotions for the first time instead of processor subroutines, of the Quarians instantly being freed from the limits of an enviro-suit, and of Kaidan and all other biotics merging with their implants, freeing them from discrimination and caustic side effects from the amplifiers in one fell swoop. As the catalyst had already explained, Shepard couldn't imagine his life without the tech installed into his tissue._

 

_The whole point of indoctrination was that you didn't know you were being indoctrinated. He might have a strong will, but he definitely wasn't immune to it, and if anyone in the entire galaxy should have been feeling the effects of indoctrination by now, it would be himself. He was constantly in close proximity to reaper tech and indoctrinated enemies, was aboard a derelict reaper, and hell, he stared a reaper dead in the laser cannon that was probably only 10 meters in front of him on Rannoch. Even a single one of those instances is probably enough for indoctrination to begin, let alone experience all of them. Maybe everything that had happened to him was finally starting to catch up. Maybe the convergence of synthetic and organic life looked better because Shepard was, to an extent, indoctrinated._

 

_The catalyst seemed to be describing the reaper version of Manifest Destiny at some point as well._

 

_The line between right and wrong seemed blurred. Foggy. The Catalyst's bias toward this option was not hidden well, but it had the effect the Catalyst wanted on Shepard's weakened state. Controlling the reapers, using their vast knowledge to stop the cycles and instead improve life that already existed, had an attractive tint to it. The Illusive Man wasn't entirely wrong, but... he would meld with the Catalyst. Meld with the collective reaper consciousness and form a new cognizance and lose any connection to humanity. What would stop him from eventually coming to the same conclusion that the Leviathans did? Over time, they observed that their thralls would frequently build synthetic constructs to aid them; these synthetics consistently rebelled, wiping out many thrall species. Shepard's consciousness would live on without the purely human side of him having any effect on his judgment. Ruthless calculus would dominate his control of the reapers, and ultimately, he was afraid that this decision would prolong the dawn of another genocide. His clouded mind and the last shred of his willpower turned away from this option._

 

_Saren and the Illusive Man, neither got what they wanted, so it looked like they chose wrong._

 

_Every single reaper Shepard had seen were modeled after Leviathan, Harbinger being the first. Throughout the last three years, those were the only form reapers had taken, except for one: The human reaper inside the Collector base. Reapers were made from a condensed amalgam of knowledge and genetics from species which were wiped out during each cycle. One was created each cycle, and they all looked the same, except for that one. Humans had some other value, some distinguishing factor other than genetic variance and adaptability, that affected the reapers' decision to deviate from the normal appearance. Shepard took this as a sign that this cycle needed to survive. Humans apparently seemed valuable to the reapers, but they overlooked every other species fighting alongside them. Big mistake. The Illusive Man made this error, and Shepard felt a little life channel into himself and almost felt a smile when he remembered being called an 'anthropocentric bag of dicks' by Liara's dad._

 

_Shepard started limping towards the destruction of the reapers, trying to focus through the red haze clouding his judgment. He felt physically healthier, his mind and body now confirming he was choosing the right answer. He knew that the adrenaline coursing through him was probably the only thing keeping him alive, and he wanted to live long enough to shoot all the reapers to hell. Shambling and staggering sent massive jolts of pain up and down his spine and legs, but he pressed on. He thought of Anderson and Kaidan, curled his fingers tightly around his gun..._

 

Something in his hand was trembling. His vision was veiled, and he saw something blurry, yet familiar standing over him. A callused warmth laid itself softly on his forehead and slid down to a cheek. Through the fog, he thought he heard it say his name before running off. Apprehension started to build in his chest. He tried to sit up, but intense numbness of his limbs and the groggy condition of his head prevented him from doing anything but moving his head to follow the form that had sprinted out. He wasn't sure if a few seconds or minutes had passed, and there was a beeping that was speeding up and annoying the shit out of him. He couldn't feel his hands or feet, the walls were constantly waving in and out, playing on claustrophobia he didn't think he had, and there were loud sounds that were fast approaching that made his anxiety thicken. His tongue felt like a limp, dead lump that wanted to fall back into his throat and choke him. Sweat began to build and roll down the back of his neck. His eyes darted around the room for any kind of saving grace as he tried futilely to move the dead weight of his limbs absolutely anywhere. He didn't know if he was in hell, or some dystopian nightmare that he had half-awoken into. Blurred figures raced next to him, their noises blaring, ear splitting, jagged clamor which only served to feed into a torture Shepard didn't think he deserved.

 

Something cold flew into his arm and shot through his body. It soothed the fire in his chest, slowed his breathing, and melted his hell away. He could feel the muscles in his arms and legs coming back to life and flexed his hands just to be sure. It was difficult, but possible. Everything became much more quiet as something familiar slipped into his hand again. There were only a few blurry shapes left standing in the room now, their voices just as hazy as their forms. His brain felt like the morning after shore leave, but it was trying to chase sobriety faster than Jack after a Cerberus operative. They were engaged in hushed conversation, but Shepard's head was cleared up enough to figure out that the mood was a little intense. He felt some vitality returning to his jaw and tongue, but decided to keep his mouth shut until he could at least hear enough to concentrate. He passively hoped his vision wouldn't be this foggy permanently; it was already starting to make him feel nauseated.

 

To his embarrassment, the thought wasn't kept to himself as he lurched over the side of the bed. And just like the morning after shore leave, things usually got better after that point.

 

~

 

Kaidan was wearing blue; he was always wearing something that at least had a trace of blue on it, and _damn_ he looked good. Ever since his vision was regained, Shepard liked to keep him in his sight. He glanced over the shape of Kaidan's toned pecs that showed through his alliance regulation uniform. The lines and details in it only served to accentuate every shape of his body. He provided a... certain kind of motivation that made him want to speed through this slow recovery process as fast as he could, but he had time now. Time to make up for the mistakes from the past two years, time to convey everything he wanted to say to Kaidan when he said 'I love you' before running to the beam, and now-

 

“Look forward, Shepard. I can't examine your retinas while you examine the Major.”

 

Kaidan's face reddened. Shepard reveled in his small triumph.

 

“I think you might be re-blinding me with that light, doc” Shepard said as he looked forward again. He was sitting up in his bed for the first time since he'd regained consciousness, which was apparently a big achievement to the attending doctors. According to Kaidan, they were the _same_ attending doctors who had witnessed his catatonic panic attack when his liver and immune system kicked back into gear and rapidly metabolized the barbiturates keeping him comatose. That seemed more noteworthy than a person sitting upright.

 

The light shining in his eye clicked off. “After everything you've been through, I'm surprised you aren't blind already. How many times have you been knocked in the head?”

 

“Do you really want me to try to count that, Karin?”

 

“I'm sure I'd be dead by the time you finished counting through your first five years as a Marine.” She laughed lightly as she put her optical light back into her case. She closed the lid and snapped it shut. “Your blood pressure's normal, your heart rate is normal, now that you're awake we can see that your brain is apparently normal” she and Kaidan exchanged amused glances, “and your cybernetics will be functioning normally after your body adapts to the changes made to them. Now you just have to wait for your body to heal,” she looked at him over her shoulder as she left the room, “just like everyone else.”

 

“You hear that, Shepard?” Kaidan said with a mocking tone. “You get to sit around and recover like a regular human instead of powering through your meds before you're even supposed to wake up.” He folded his arms over his chest.

 

Shepard sighed. “At least my implants'll be online by the time I get to do PT. Maybe I'll just sit here for a few weeks and mope around like a normal person would, unless I could be motivated somehow...” He grinned and raised an eyebrow in Kaidan's direction.

 

Kaidan smiled sadly and humored him as best he could. He took Shepard's hand and stroked small circles across new scars. There would be a lot of unfamiliar marks on Shepard he would get to memorize once he got out of here, and it could be a long time until he could really begin with anything but hands and arms. He wondered what would change between them now that the war was over.

 

“Do you remember when Joker broke his nose, and EDI casually suggested to you afterward that he probably wouldn't get any _face time_ for a while?”

 

Shepard's smile dimmed a little. “Yeah. She's always making jokes. Pretty strange for an AI.”

 

“Well, the principle's pretty much the same, except it'll probably be a longer wait than that.”

 

“I know, Kaidan. Just wishful thinking. That's all.” He squeezed Kaidan's hand. “Think you could stay the night anyway? I hear the breakfast here tastes a little less like varren ass than at the camp near that tower.”

 

“Yeah. The bed's probably softer, too.” He smiled tenderly.

 

When it got dark, and the last of the daily vitals were taken, Kaidan sat down in his usual chair. Shepard was already lying down, and was watching him intently. There was a feeling of eagerness in the air, and they both felt it. Neither of them had physically just laid down next to each other in months, but it felt like years. Kaidan leaned down and undid the laces on one boot, then the other, then tried to pull one off, only to have to loosen some of the lower laces which were still too tight. After fumbling with them for an inordinate amount of time, he finally managed to pull his boots off, then his socks. He stood up, quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled it out of the loops. He placed it over a hand rest on his chair, and walked over to the bed. Shepard instinctively rolled onto his side, facing away from Kaidan. He always cradled Shepard when they were lying in bed, and Shepard always held him during particularly malicious migraines.

 

Kaidan carefully slipped into the sheets, making slow movements so as not to jostle the man he wanted to hold so badly. Shepard had no hospital shirt on, claiming it was too warm, but he wore standard hospital pants under the sheets. Kaidan pressed his chest on Shepard's bare back and molded his body around the other man's legs. He laid an arm over Shepard's waist and slipped the other one under their pillow.

 

The bed was large, but still only meant for one person to fit into. It didn't matter. Neither one wanted to be any further from the other. They were pressed together on a single-person bed, sharing a single pillow, and they were content.

 

Kaidan pulled Shepard closer and breathed him in. He smelled like hospital soap and musk. He sighed when he exhaled, and Shepard shivered. He pressed himself onto Kaidan as much as he could and put an arm over the one on his waist, trying to make any increase in contact. He stroked Kaidan's hand the way his had been caressed before. Small, careful circles. He shivered again when Kaidan laid a few soft kisses on the back of his neck. He laced his fingers between the digits of the hand under his.

 

“John” Kaidan whispered the name on the back of his neck. “I missed you.”

 

Shepard reluctantly pulled himself from Kaidan's chest to lie on his back, but was rewarded with a pair of chestnut eyes warmly staring down at him when the older biotic shifted his weight to lean on the arm under the pillow as a response. Kaidan put his hand on Shepard's bicep. They were close. Shepard's heat mixed with Kaidan's breaths. He looked at Kaidan's hair, a little messy without a chance to fix it, the dusky color of his skin, the shape of his mouth. He reached a hand up to smooth Kaidan's dark hair and slid it behind his neck. “I missed you, Kaidan.” He gently pulled and their foreheads met in a light touch. Shepard closed his eyes, trying to savor every single moment he could, feeling every breath he let out collide with Kaidan's, the heart racing in his chest, the heat radiating from one body to another.

 

Kaidan closed the space between them and gently pressed his lips to Shepard's. The grip on his nape tightened. He felt a wave of relief break through the tension from missing this closeness ripple down his chest and head south. He felt breathless as Shepard's soft lips molded to his movements. Kaidan's hand brushed up over Shepard's shoulder and found a new place on his cheek, his thumb tracing along a cheekbone. He was low over Shepard, but not laying on him. Any undue strain could hinder his recovery.

 

Kaidan pulled back and broke the kiss. Shepard sighed. Kaidan was just trying to be careful, but it didn't help Shepard's growing impulses to take things in a more rough direction when he felt a familiar hardness trying not to press into his side.

 

It was intimacy as painfully chaste as Shepard's healing needed it to be.

 

~

 

“Solid food? This must be a special occasion. Is it 'don't get your three squares from a tube'

day?”

 

Kaidan thought that his face should be hurting from the almost nonstop smiling he'd been involuntarily doing for the past three days. “Don't get excited yet, it's not even breakfast food, but I saw it and had to get it. You wouldn't believe me if I didn't bring it up here.” He set a plate down on the tray table that was currently extended over Shepard's bed.

 

Shepard examined it, wondering what Kaidan meant. The top of the rectangular mess was browned, and it smelled like beef and potatoes. His face lit up with realization, “Wait, wait” he laughed, shakily holding up his hand palm outward toward Kaidan. “Are you serious? Is this _Shepherd's Pie?_ ” There was a pause as they both beamed at each other, each waiting for the other to crack, and simultaneously burst with laughter. Shepard quickly ran out of breath, his diaphragm significantly weaker than a few months ago. He covered his stomach with a hand to try to warm his aching muscles. Once the laugh ran out of steam, he said “God, I don't remember the last time I hurt from laughing.”

 

“I definitely remember the last time _I_ did though.” Kaidan grinned evilly. “I remember a certain gag gift from Joker after he found out we were seeing each other.”

 

Shepard's face went blank, his eyes wide. “Oh no.”

 

Kaidan stepped towards the bed. “Oh yes. And you tried to send it out the airlock before Allers found out you had a copy of, limited edition _and_ in mint condition by the way, the rare male Turian and Hanar printing of Fornax.”

 

“And then you agreed, under penalty of being left on a planet for reaper target practice, that you would never mention it again.”

 

“Well, I don't see any reapers here.”

 

“Then,” Shepard said through a smirk, “I'll have to figure out what to do with you.” He grabbed a fistful of Kaidan's shirt and pulled him in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer time between updates, longer chapter! It felt a little rough to write, putting intimacy into words is not my forte, but maybe I'll write some plotless mshenko goodies for practice :D
> 
> Hope it was worth the wait!


	7. Not a chapter!

Holy hell, it's been a while! I apologize about the lack of chapters and writing in general, but working and school (both full time) really eat up any free hours. I am, however, almost done working on another section. It will be a tad longer and even have an inkling of a plot spanning over the entire five-six thousandish words. There will not be many chapters left until the story is finished, but it WILL get finished!

Apologies aside, I wanted to thank Archer7808 for their praise. I don't receive much feedback, so their comment completely blew me away! I can't even begin to articulate the joy I felt from being compared to any of the pieces mentioned, and I was never out to create a story comparable to, you know, something decent, but you have let me know loud and clear that this story is indeed worthwhile, both for the people reading it and for myself. Reading those specific stories you mentioned in your comment and others like those were what compelled me to start writing this piece in the first place. I am immensely grateful for your kind words.

Archer7808, you, as well as the Mass Effect series, are responsible for the upcoming chapter. Thank you so much for inspiring me to continue to shuffle my feet through the possibilities of 2186 and beyond.


	8. 7: Foreboding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it's been a huge amount of time between the last chapter and now, I really recommend re-reading the previous chapter before going on with this one. This new chapter intertwines pretty heavily with the one before it.

 Shepard might have been awake, but Kaidan was still needed at the comm tower; his expertise in combination with his own biotics were proving to be essential in rebuilding, and his worn out brain kept reminding him that the only thing standing between him and communication to Vancouver was this very tower. The repairs were almost done, but the pace was slowing down. It was nearing 4 PM, so the fatigue which was plaguing every technician in the building was almost tangible. The crews on the upper levels seemed to run into almost insurmountable problems which kept bringing progress to a grinding halt. Kaidan had observed that the higher up you got in the tower, the more intricate and delicate the electronics became. Upper level equipment was touchy, sensitive, and irritating to work on, so once something went a little glitchy, the process to rectify and fine-tune the delicate instruments was lengthy at best, and only made longer because of the balconies on the higher levels. According to the people who were working exclusively on the upper levels, it was amply harder to resist taking breaks when the balconies looked so inviting and the consoles were so aggravating.

 

Kaidan was working on an especially finicky machine that was not giving in, almost as if it was actively trying to make his day a little more unbearable. He wished he had been sent to a lower level, but he didn't have any control over which consoles or devices needed to be looked at, so he would work on different levels almost every day. Usually, he'd get acquainted with whomever he was working around over the course of the very, very long day, and his efforts would seem to move more swiftly. The crew he was around today were way more talkative than most of the other technicians he'd met, and they all seemed to know each other, except for one individual who mostly kept to herself apart from the occasional 'hand that to me.' The group, Kaidan noticed, were pretty boisterous. They cracked jokes about transistors and M5 conjunctions as if they were all competing against each other for the best one-liners. It was refreshing to be near people who, despite the widespread destruction, still had a sense of humor and were probably using it to cope. It reminded him of Joker.

 

EDI came to Kaidan once because she was curious about humor in life-threatening situations. The example she used when he had inquired about her interest was when Joker unshackled her. After crawling through maintenance shafts and avoiding collectors as they were dragging people screaming to their deaths, Joker made jokes and even did an impression of someone talking about him 'plugging in the overlord.'

 

Kaidan missed EDI. Probably not as much as Jeff did, though.

 

He glanced over at the woman working with quiet diligence a few meters away. She was single-mindedly engaged in her work, unblinking, going at it almost like a machine. Her movements were quick and precise, her dextrous hands working almost as fast as her eyes darting swiftly from circuit to circuit. She didn't even flinch when a spark came dangerously close to hitting her eye. She occasionally muttered to herself, sometimes turning her head when she whispered like there was someone next to her who needed input. He wondered what she might have been like before the war.

 

He went back to his own work, thoughts of the woman pushed out by remembering Shepard while they were on the SR-1. Kaidan hadn't stationed himself outside of his CO's room by accident, and every time Shepard came to talk to him, rules and regulations regarding fraternization reverberating through his head dimmed and was replaced by a warmth that was kindling itself a little more every mission. He remembered the dim orange glow of the electronics reflecting off his CO's stubbled jaw as he'd asked if Shepard usually made it a habit of getting personal with his crew. And the small twist of a half-smile when he replied that no, no he didn't.

 

He wondered how long it would be before Shepard could walk again. Or how long it would take him to work on the present he'd given him that morning.

 

His train of thought broke when the laughter was halted to a sudden silence. He looked over at the maintenance worker nearest to him. He was staring wide-eyed toward the balcony. Kaidan followed his line of sight and saw the reticent woman with steadfast hands start to climb over the barricade which kept people from falling off the precipice. Panic shot through him and he burst into a sprint toward her, dove in a desperate attempt to catch her leg as she went over-

 

He missed.

 

~

 

It had been nine days since he'd woken up and for the past two, he'd been sort of entertaining this kid who'd wandered into his room looking for his parents. He had a head of scruffy blondish hair, and was probably around nine or ten. He wouldn't tell Shepard how old he was because he didn't want to be treated like a kid his age, and the only name he gave up was 'just some kid.' For every question he asked the kid about where he was supposed to be, two more were lobbed straight back about Banshees or what a Reaper's eye looked like close up. He clearly didn't want to give anything away about where he came from or why he hid from everyone who came in to check vitals. He made it very obvious that he didn't like doctors; whenever one came in to hastily scribble notes on the chart hanging on the end of the bed or change out a bag on the IV stand, he'd dive under the bed like bullets were raining down. He almost wanted to tell one of them about the kid when they were connecting a new IV bag, maybe figure out who he was with at the hospital so a parent wasn't worrying about where their son was, but every time he tried to mention it, his jaw would go cold and snap shut on its own. He attributed it to the changing of his IVs since they were stored in a cooler before being hooked up and he always felt freezing when they were freshly attached.

 

Kaidan had given him a present before he left that morning, saying that it would help with his PT. The kid got a hold of it and convinced Shepard to open it up, even though he was half-dreading it because his hands seemed like they were made of warm wax, going slack and feeling numb a few times throughout the day. Shepard felt like a kid who had been given weekend homework by his hot teacher. His hands weren't steady at all, and his fingers were shaky and uncoordinated. His hybrid brain was struggling to bridge withering connections between organic and synthetic synapses for his body to correctly follow direction. It took him ten frustratingly long minutes to tear the wrapping completely off the box, and it was a shit way to begin physical therapy, but at least it was a start.

 

“No way!” The kid shouted excitedly. “Is that a Hanar freighter?”

 

He felt a headache coming on. “Huh. I didn't know Hanar had any ships but transport vessels” Shepard replied, turning the box over in his hands to examine it. The corners were worn down, the thin plastic wrapping frayed at the very tips. Kaidan told him that while he was comatose, he couldn't put it down, even dulled the edges a bit from nervously shifting it around between his hands. Then Shepard had made a joke about “that one time he died” in an attempt to ease Kaidan's very visible anxiety and instantly regretted it when Kaidan's shoulders stiffened and his jaw hardened and looked like it was about to split, and Shepard fumbled out a desperate apology before Kaidan awkwardly stuttered out an “I should go.” Shepard wasn't sure if that was a joke or not.

 

“Yeah, well, Hanar can't hold anything too heavy across, you know, the space between planets.”

 

“Ha-ha” Shepard replied monotonously. “How does it feel to be the funniest person in the room?”

 

“Kinda like I deserve the rest of your pudding cup.”

 

“Sure, kid. Go for it.”

 

An hour later, Shepard was handing him the comically small tube of glue, only enough provided it was used in exactly the right amount on all the numerous pieces, and giving advice about eyeballing the right amount. Too little and the piece wouldn't hold, too much and you'd run out before finishing, and the only way to get more model glue was to buy another model. Plus, there'd be dried glue squishing out between pieces and it would dry like that. The point of building this stuff was to make them as realistic as possible, and seeing foggy globs of dried glue between decks and windowpanes was _not_ how a Hanar freighter looked. He sighed as the thought flashed through his mind that he would have to painstakingly rebuild all the models that were on the Normandy.

 

“I know I know. _Jeez._ You worry about model ships more than my dad. At least he lets me use the glue without a speech about 'realism' every time I use it. He still won't let me paint them though.”

 

Shepard put his hands up and said “Okay, sorry. Just trying to help.” He withheld any further guidance about glue for the sake of keeping the kid around. The days were long and dull without Kaidan sticking close, so he was grateful for the company, even if it _was_ kind of ruining the model and giving him small headaches that clawed right behind his eyes. The kid set it on the table near Shepard's bed to let the glue dry, and like a deer sensing danger, his eyes widened and he dashed out of the room.

 

The kid would always leave just before Kaidan came back. He said he could sense any mushy stuff coming on and wanted to be far, far away from anything like it. Shepard thought it was strange, but shrugged it off. The kid could probably hear a pair of boots walking down the tiled hall better than he could. His inner ears were already messed up from years of gunfire, and head trauma from dying twice wouldn't really help with that.

 

Relief briefly flooded his system when Kaidan strolled through the door. It ended when he sat on the bed, leaned over, and rubbed his forehead, fingers scratching around his hairline.

 

“Kaidan?” Shepard retracted the table and inched over to where Kaidan sat. He grasped Kaidan's shoulder which was nearest to him and laid his other hand on Kaidan's thigh. He gave the shoulder a gentle squeeze, trying to be reassuring. “What happened?”

 

There was prolonged silence, and at the same time, there wasn't.

 

The normal bustle of the hospital, medication clinking in metal cups, squeaky wheels on carts, hurried footfalls, the murmurs of miscellaneous medical staff, patients, visitors, all of it had the volume turned down to zero. Below zero. And yet, this pounding in his head, the static white noise, the electric silence, it sliced through the haze of mental exhaustion that had accumulated over the day.

 

~

 

Kaidan exhaled heavily. He felt like he had been holding his breath for hours.

 

“Good news is that we finally have communication with any other countries that have working comm towers.”

 

“But there's bad news to go with it.”

 

“Yeah. This woman- this other technician... we were both working on the same floor. She was quiet, but a lot of people go through some sort of shell shock after wars, you know?”

 

The warm hand on his shoulder slid down between his shoulder blades, concentrating heat just behind the dragging beats of his heart. Shepard didn't say anything, so Kaidan continued. “She threw herself off a balcony. It was _so_ unexpected. I just missed her as she went over, but caught her with a stasis until someone could get her back inside.” He lifted his head out of his hand and sat up in his chair only to slide down until the base of his skull rested just on the cushioned top of the backrest. “And a few hours later on break, I saw something on the news. Turn on the vidscreen.”

 

He watched Shepard reach over to the bedside table and noticed a bulky excuse for a Hanar transport vessel. He felt his mind even out.

 

“Don't even ask me how long it took to build that.” Shepard said with a half-smile when Kaidan gestured towards it.

 

They settled on the bed side by side facing the vidscreen mounted on the wall across from them. Kaidan grasped Shepard's free hand with both of his as the vidscreen flipped on. Shepard flew though the channels until he found a news station.

 

Shepard felt floored. Before all the chaos, Earth had cradled eleven and a half billion people. Apparently, the first thing that was communicated between nations as soon as their towers were uplinked wasn't a coordination of transport vessels or aid or anything remotely helpful to the people who were still alive. It was a death toll. Seventy five percent of the planet's countries had communicated with each other, and there wasn't a single place that hadn't been touched by reaper forces. The estimated population of Earth, including everyone who still needed transport back to their own homeworlds, had been diminished to six billion. Shepard didn't know whether to feel grateful that there were that many left, or feel like an absolute failure for letting down Thessia _and_ a fucking half of the humans in the galaxy. The tragedy didn't end there.

 

After giving Kaidan the remote, the channel changed to a local news station. The reporter was standing in the rain in front of London's main comm tower. At approximately four PM London time, a mass suicide had taken place across almost every country that reported in, and losses were estimated at almost 100 million.

 

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.”

 

“Wish I was, Shepard.”

 

He couldn't hear anymore. His second Star of Terra felt like a joke. “Turn it off.”

 

Kaidan switched off the vidscreen and set the remote back on the bedside table.

 

~

 

“Look, you either do it, or you don't do it and everyone in class is going to think you're a big scaredy-varren, and that bigger kid who won't share the swings during recess will shove you into the baby swing and take pictures of you with the omni-tool he stole from his older sister to look cool.”

 

“Sounds like-” Shepard's sentence was interrupted by a grunt as he shambled another inch down the walkway “-you're speaking from experience, Joker.”

 

“Yeah, well it's not like I wouldn't have shattered some bones in my hand if I'd hit him.”

 

“I'm going to hit _you_ if I ever get to the end of this thing.”

 

“Woah now, Commander. No copy of Fornax is worth punching someone over. Plus, almost all your weight is on your hands anyway. Worst you could do is, what, fling a leg at me?”

 

Shepard laughed at the image, and almost didn't catch himself when his arms went slack from a lack of concentration. He knew he was pretty much at gravity's mercy until his legs built up enough muscle to carry his weight again, but damn it if he wouldn't try to chuck a loose shoe at Joker if it would get him any further on the poles.

 

“Fucking-” he grunted as he heaved himself forward another inch”-parallel bars.”

 

Joker leaned on the outside of a bar far, far from his former CO and crossed his arms. “You should try aquatic PT. It's a little easier and you'll regain muscle more smoothly than just trying to force yourself through hell. Only drawback,” he help up his hands and wiggled his digits, “is you get wrinkly fingers.”

 

His arms felt like they were on fire. It had been so long since he'd felt any muscle strain, but the searing in his biceps and triceps was a familiar feeling that he welcomed. It felt cleansing, like he was purging weakness and fragility straight out from his limbs, and replacing them with vigor and endurance and a fortitude that had eluded him since he'd first woken up. His arms were burning, but his legs were even worse. They were simultaneously ablaze and numb, prickles running up and down his calves and hamstrings, and his thighs felt immobilized and unresponsive. He felt embarrassment creep through his temples as he managed to barely limp and stagger down the parallel bars, but Joker had reminded him constantly before they began this PT session that he had gone through this a couple times himself and knew what it was like, and that killing one or two Reapers should exempt one from something like that anyway.

 

He heard a thud on the floor near the doorway. “ _Christ,_ Shepard!” He looked up and saw Kaidan, and the embarrassment took hold again. “Shit.” He heard something plastic shift in its box as it got picked up off the floor.

 

“I'd dance, but uh, you know how well that goes even _with_ my sense of balance working right.”

 

“I'm done for today, Joker” he managed to force out. He felt sweet relief when a wheelchair nudged the back of his legs. Kaidan hurried over and helped him ease into it.

 

“I thought Dr. Chakwas was going to wait to start your PT. Who on the staff did you have to harass to get it going?” Kaidan said cheerfully, his hands under Shepard's elbows to support weight as he lowered Shepard into the chair.

 

“He just had to mention how many fish he's annihilated” Joker chimed it.

 

“I'd laugh, but fish genocide is _not_ funny when the tank VI can't clean up fish corpses.” Shepard closed his eyes and relaxed in the chair. He was going to be more sore than he had been in years, but it was worth it. The prickles dancing up and down his legs, the searing heat channeling through his arms and shoulders, it all felt pure and uncomplicated and cleansing. Fatigue flooded his mind and body, the kind that let you know you'd done good, the kind he hadn't felt in over three years. He noticed that the room was silent. He opened his eyes and saw Kaidan and Joker staring intensely at each other.

 

“Hey Shepard, I'll be back next week” Joker said before hurriedly leaving.

 

“What was that about?” He asked Kaidan.

 

“I'll tell you after you get back in bed.”

 

After Kaidan had practically slung him onto the bed, he peeled of Shepard's sweat-soaked hospital shirt, wet a towel in the bathroom, and proceeded to wipe him down.

 

“Who knew a sponge bath could be so un-sexy” Shepard said through a grin.

 

“Ha, Shepard. Very funny.”

 

“That's what happens when you spend so much time around Joker I guess.” Kaidan lifted one of Shepard's arms. “Hey, what was up with you two earlier?”

 

“Hmm?” Kaidan swiped the wet cloth around to his shoulder. “Oh. I ran in to him earlier on my way to the tower. He's going a little crazy, but it's understandable.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“He wants to rebuild EDI. He thinks he can recover her core memory, maybe some of her processors, but I don't know, Shepard.” He sighed as he put Shepard's arm down, but didn't let go. “I tried to help him with EDI after the Normandy crashed, but there was nothing left of her inside that shell. Every single component and part that made her EDI was fried to hell. He's spent almost the entire time back on Earth trying to figure out how to fix her or restore certain parts that he could transplant into another body. I can't really blame him though.” He looked through the window. “Grief can be a powerful motivator.” Kaidan stroked Shepard's arm and sighed again.

 

“Hey” Shepard whispered. He laid a hand on the side of Kaidan's face and turned it towards him. “You never know what could happen, Kaidan.”

 

Kaidan brought a hand up to caress the one on his cheek. “You're right.”

 

Kaidan's eyes burned into his, and another pleasant heat made its way to his groin.

 

“We're not going camping, Shepard.” Kaidan managed to say as he laughed wholeheartedly after looking down. He got up and went back to the bathroom to rinse the towel. Shepard, confused, looked down and saw a tent.

 

Embarrassment was an annoying constant for the day, Shepard thought before switching the vidscreen _on_ to get his mind _off_ of the ass walking away. A woman standing in front of London's main comm tower appeared on the screen, the wind and rain blowing into her microphone as she stood stalwart throughout London's weather.

 

“-sults from interviews of people who knew those involved in last week's mass suicide. So far, every individual who has lived after attempting suicide has shown signs of vivid hallucinations and indoctrination, the ability Reapers used to communicate with other beings in a manner similar to telepathy, as well as to turn them into thralls.”

 

“Kaidan, you, uh, might want to see this.” He heard the sink turn off. Kaidan shook his hands to half-dry them, and walked over to the bed, his eyes transfixed on the screen.

 

“This study has been led by a woman named Dr. Ann Bryson, who has been at the forefront of studies for indoctrination for the past two years. According to Dr. Bryson, the thralls might have been undergoing a type of withdrawal or experiencing acute, intense feelings of emptiness. As to why all the victims attempted suicide within the same three minute window, Dr. Bryson theorizes that it had something to do with just recently being indoctrinated, that the victims' minds were all warped to work exactly the same when they were indoctrinated, and that some of those similarities remained after the Reapers were destroyed. This would also explain why each of the survivors displayed signs of hallucinations, some as mild as talking to something that isn't there, or some to the extreme of pain which can't be diagnosed. One patient of Dr. Bryson's has even been experiencing effects similar to methamphetamine withdrawal and all the excruciating pain associated with it. Dr. Bryson has told us that though this specific patient is presenting horrifying symptoms, she feels confident that he, and the other survivors, can be treated. We'll know more as her study progresses.” Shepard flipped the vidscreen off.

 

The kid never did come back. Maybe he found his parents and forgot to say goodbye. Shepard didn't want to think about what else he might have meant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... it's been a little while! I'm sure that everyone reading this has, at one point or another, gotten so wrapped up in life that they leave all their other projects on the back burner, and that's pretty much what happened. Can't give an estimate of when the next one will be coming out, but rest assured, it will be posted eventually, and this beast of a story will be finished at some point. Flattery and criticism also help the creative process for me, so don't hesitate to let me know what you think :D


	9. 8: Control

Shepard was on his way up to Flux. His boots fell heavy on the grates leading away from the Normandy and over to the elevator to C-Sec. His whole body seemed reluctant and dragged itself step after step. He absolutely _did not_ want to be away from the ship, away from the lockers outside the med bay... 

 

_Focus._

 

He tried to shrug it off. It wasn't Joker's fault; Anderson was the one who requested a meeting with him at Flux, and Joker just had the unfortunate task of interrupting something vitally important. Crucial. Probably the only good thing that could have come out of the ship being grounded. But  _dammit_ if Joker didn't have the worst timing. 

 

Shepard hit the elevator call button with the side of his fist a little too hard. He stepped in, and was rewarded with the same cheesy elevator music that always played in Citadel elevators. Usually it was drowned out with Garrus and Tali exchanging their usual banter about Geth or the Genophage, or Wrex, who was surprisingly civil in a semi-sexist way, complimenting Ash on her combat skills. Or a conversation between Liara and Kaidan-

 

Shepard felt his chest tighten and the mild, misdirected frustration toward Joker rushed back.

 

_Focus._

 

He had to get his mind off Kaidan. He tried to think about how strange it was that the area around his amp was sore. He tried to think about Captain Anderson and how this situation mirrored the Captain's past. The Normandy hadn't been fully taken from Shepard as it had with Anderson, but it looked like things could go down that way if the Council and Udina really believed that the Reaper threat was pulled from the ether by Saren to distract them from, what they perceived as his true goal, a plan to attack the Citadel. Maybe they would start to think that their Spectre didn't need a vessel as capable and technologically significant to chase down Geth that were outside the Veil or to go hunt down the conduit. Shepard wished that Geth were his only problem. The council certainly seemed to think that was the case. Udina brushed off Anderson's reasoning for the Reaper threat because Anderson was close to the first human Spectre, a person who seemed to have no other use to him than a way to worm into the Council. Shepard thought about Udina's position, tried to figure out why Udina couldn't believe him even though the facts were laid out plain as day. Maybe he had mental blinders on because of all the frustration Shepard put him through, and, Shepard had to admit, he hadn't exactly helped Udina's job by accidentally destroying a prothean beacon on his first mission with a Spectre, and then turning around and accusing another Spectre of sabotage and treason. Things probably sped downhill for Udina after that point whenever Shepard came back to the Citadel after subsequent missions, but Shepard didn't have a choice. He couldn't ignore the obvious signs and clues to what was really happening, and if Udina chose to blindly ignore what appeared in mission reports out of spite, then Shepard couldn't control that. He tried to concentrate on something he could actually control. One foot in front of the other. Straighten his posture. Unclench the fists his hands had locked into. Walk into Flux.

 

 

 

Shepard carefully controlled his speed all the way back to the central elevator in C-Sec. He was on the verge on sprinting; every step felt light and carried a bounce that he wanted to use to launch himself forward, but he needed to avoid suspicion. Anderson was on his way to Udina's office to hack his computer and release the lock on the Normandy, and all Shepard had to do was be on it when that happened. The elevator seemed to descend twice as slowly and the music inside it was blocked out by the loud hum of energy loaded into every muscle, pulsing between his eyes, and Shepard ran sideways through the still-opening door when it touched down. He struggled to stand still in the entrance chamber to the ship, waiting for the monotone AI to tell him that Pressly was relieved, and directed a shout to the cockpit where Joker was in for some good news.

 

In about thirteen hours, the Normandy would touch down on Ilos. Everything that had happened during the previous months was leading up to this final assault. Shepard knew that the most decisive events of this whole long, devastating build up were coming, but he didn't know what to expect on Ilos and therefore couldn't arm himself with any knowledge other than Geth would probably be present. He needed sleep, but the anxiety from the unknown factors of the mission hardly let him lie still. He settled for pacing in his cabin and was very successful at avoiding the cracks in the metal tiles until he heard footfalls outside his door.

 

He caught a glimpse of Kaidan walking around the table in the mess toward the elevator. He had a bed roll and pillow tucked under one arm, and a sloshing glass bottle in the other which he used to press the lift button. “Evening, Major.”

 

“Shepard” he replied back, his voice tense as if he'd caught him by surprise. “Didn't think you'd be up this late.” He shifted the bed roll as it was leaning out if his grip. “Can't get to sleep either?”

 

“I gave up on trying a few hours ago.” His gaze floated downward, but he caught himself and fixated on the bed roll. “Need a hand?”

 

Kaidan smiled slightly. “Yeah, thanks.” Shepard walked over and grasped the bedroll. His fingers lazily brushed Kaidan's skin as he removed it from under Kaidan's arm. His skin felt like it was burning. He saw red creep into the pallor of Kaidan's cheeks and their eyes locked for one precious moment until the lift door hissed open and Kaidan cleared his throat. They both stepped onto the lift, and Kaidan flipped a switch that sent the lift down to engineering. This elevator seemed just as slow as the one in C-Sec, creaking as it took its time, and the apprehension felt by both men was thick in the recycled air. Shepard felt Kaidan's eyes on him as his own eyes bore into the lift's door. His hands felt damp.

 

Relief washed over him as the door opened, and he followed Kaidan out the hatch. Kaidan cleared his throat again, and Shepard was racking his brain to find something, anything, to bring up to break the silence.

 

“I come down here sometimes when I can't sleep” Kaidan started as they padded through the storage room and headed towards engineering. Shepard was grateful for the start of what sounded like a conversation. “Tali loves talking about how the drive core works. She rambles a lot about the FTL drive and the internal emission sink near it too, but you just can't see it as well since the drive core just looks like this wall of light and sheer power. For it's size and all its grandeur, the drive core is strangely quiet.”

 

“So you come down here and sleep?”

 

“Among other things.” He raised the bottle in his other hand and gave its contents a gentle swirl. “This helps me sleep too. Shepard heard a soft laugh escape Kaidan that cut through his tension instantly. Kaidan set the bottle down near a wall, and Shepard handed him the bed roll. He saw Kaidan remove something from the middle while the bed roll was still tightly wound up and slipped it into his pocket. It wasn't until the roll was completely laid out that Shepard saw how thin it was.

 

“Now _that_ can't make sleeping easier, Kaidan” he said as he gestured to the meager substitute for a bed.

 

“Give it a couple minutes to breathe. It gets thicker, it's just been compressed into that spiral for a few weeks. Kaidan turned away from Shepard and leaned on the rail near the core's controls, dangling the neck of the bottle between his fingers. His eyes were looking at the bottle, but as Shepard came up beside him, Kaidan's eyes looked distant. The lines in his face were deeper, carved into his skin by trauma and pain and loss. Shepard leaned on the rail next to him, making sure that their arms just barely touched. This seemed to wake Kaidan out of the place his mind had stolen him to. Kaidan, still loosely holding the neck of the glass bottle, lifted the body of it toward Shepard. He took it, twisted the cap off, and took a swig of the semi-translucent amber liquid inside. He felt it sear a path as it traveled down his throat and settled in his abdomen.

 

“Jesus, Kaidan” he said, holding back a cough. “What the hell is this? It's fucking strong.”

 

A smile returned to Kaidan's face, the lines around his mouth distracting as Shepard watched a corner of his lips curve upward. “You wouldn't believed how aged that is even if I told you. Whiskey not your thing, Shepard?”

 

Shepard handed the bottle back to him. “Not my usual” he choked out, the cough finally winning. “But it's been a little dry around here lately, so I can't complain.”

 

“Been saving this for a crisis, and it looks like we have one. Figured now's as good a time as any.” The distance in his eyes began to return. “Always thought we'd be sharing this with Ash.” He slumped to the floor, his back leaning on the rails, and looked up. “I'm gonna miss her bad poetry and the stories about her sisters.”

 

Ashley was not a subject he was ready to deal with. It was too fresh, too new to cope with, and they didn't have time to mourn until the Ilos situation was dealt with. Of course he missed her, but he had to set that aside. Shepard didn't know how to communicate this to Kaidan, so instead, he sat down next to him. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his leg, arm and shoulder, but not actually touch. He had to resist, otherwise he didn't think he could control what would happen. He rubbed the base of his skill where his amp was settled, trying to ease the soreness of it.

 

There were times, so many countless times, that Shepard had wanted to take Kaidan into his quarters, latch on, and never let go. He would be distracted from the datapads littering his desk and bed, knowing that Kaidan was just on the other side of his cabin wall, working in that dim orange glow. He would picture those dark eyes, the pink lips, his smile, he would imagine how rough his hands must be, and sometimes when he couldn't take any more, he would lean one forearm against that wall, undo a zipper with the other, and just lose himself in thoughts about this impossibly grounded, god damned sexy biotic. He would think of all the times he had requested Kaidan for missions, and had occasionally crouched next to him for cover during a firefight. Kaidan would dart around to a jagged slab of concrete, throw a warp that would knock an enemy flat on their ass, and crouch back down again, sometimes away from Shepard if he was lucky. That lean ass, the curve of it, and the dip in the middle that the bodysuit under his armor hugged; it was the reason Shepard always waited a while before removing his armor with everyone else in the storage room after a mission. Sometimes, he'd come back to the ship and have to fight impulses about grinding against the inside of his armor, against _anything_ , until he was alone in the storage room. He hadn't been so turned on since adolescence.

 

“Shepard?” Kaidan laid a hand on Shepard's knee. “Are you with me?”

 

Shepard shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts out. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

 

More silence. They both just sat there, passing the whiskey back and forth. The hum of the massive drive core and the sounds of leather boots being removed and unceremoniously tossed into a corner were all that accompanied them for a half hour. The whiskey, once heavy in his stomach, began to breach Shepard's anxiety, gradually molding it into steady relaxation. Only then did he begin to focus on the thumb that was stroking circles around his kneecap, dipping into a scar, and slowly moving outward. He felt hazy and warm, and Kaidan's hand was searing a path lazily up his thigh, back down below his knee, and back up again. With a bit of courage, he reached out to touch the biotic's knuckles as they slid back upward. They were so incredibly warm.

 

“Kaidan, you're pretty hot.”

 

“Ha, thanks Shepard.”

 

“No, I mean really, physically burning.” His fingertips moved to intercept the palm that almost laid flat on his thigh. He turned Kaidan's hand over and felt the lines marking his hand. “You feeling alright?”

 

Kaidan laughed whole-heartedly, and replied “More than alright. It's just how the L2 reacts to alcohol. Makes my body heat up to burn it off. I don't think I've had any really bad hangovers since it was installed, unlike all the L3s I've met.”

 

“Ah, well that would explain the mornings after shore leave.” Shepard joked. “Wish I had that vital piece of information back when I enlisted.”

 

“What about the new L5 Cerberus installed?” Shepard looked at Kaidan, his eyes hazy and giving Kaidan's face a glow. His hand moved toward Shepard's amp jack, but his fingers curled up in sudden hesitation.

 

“Haven't tested it yet” Shepard said through a smile as he made a grab for the bottle Kaidan hadn't handed over in what seemed like days. Kaidan, not nearly as fuzzy and Shepard was, managed to keep it out of arm's length, lifting it high and away from Shepard's reach. As Shepard leaned over Kaidan's lap in an attempt to get closer to the glass bottle, he froze.

 

“Wait, L5? Latest model is an L3, what are you talking...”

 

The room began to spin. The arm holding him up over Kaidan's lap went limp, and he landed face first onto the cold, hard floor. His unresponsive eyes were forced to stare at Kaidan's agonized, face as it melted, the skin and muscle sloughing off steaming bones, his eyes burst open and smoke poured downward over Shepard's arm. The smoke enveloped his fingers first, then his hand, then made its way up to the elbow and shoulder, making his skin flay and erupt into red screaming strings of flesh. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't control anything no matter how desperate he was. The smoke crept up to his mouth, his eyes, and filled them with scraping whispers, tendrils of fluid deceit and electric lies screeched and reverberated inside his skull, vibrated his bones until his teeth felt like they were splitting.

 

_what is he doing on the floor_

 

_he's bleeding out_

 

_kaidan, go get chakwas_

 

_shepard, relax, you're rejecting-_

 


End file.
